Some random thoughts as I get my Logan Five Sandman costume ready for Halloween and reflect on King Douchuous the IV (pictured here) and his well deserved place in our hallowed Hall of Scrote.

Future 2008 Douchie winner DJ Bello continues to waste time on YouTube. This time in a Clockwork Orange flat on the outskirts of London, apparently. As usual, no hotts anywhere to be seen.

What is douche?

Ben Baller is the King of 'Bling. And yes, that's the same guy that was in Monday's Double Crosser pic.

Dear Annie: Why does Axe Bodyspray make me sick?

Peyton List. Mad Men may have finished for the season, but you and I have not. You are my twinkie sunshine. Marry me, then divorce me, kitten.

High School Douchical 3! It just makes me want to jump up and sing and dance like an elfin muppet whose testes have yet to drop!

Ah, Halloween. When hot chicks have a socially approved excuse to dress slutty. And douchebags spend one night blending into the crowd.

Don't forget, if you or your loved one dress up as a scrotewank/hot-chick combo this Halloween, especially as anyone from our hallowed Hall of Scrote, send in a pic.

I'm giving away a signed copy of my book to the best hottie/douchey Halloween coupling.

I was going to offer a large cash prize. But then I realized the high cost of boobies.

Happy Hallowe....!!

Oh wait. This is real.

My Candy Corns feel tainted.

EDIT: Props to don't wheeze the douche! who figured out that The Scarecrow is actually HCwDB of the Month Winner The Metaphysical Hooligan.

Adding fuel to the fire with yet another pic of Carly Hott, TMH is making a strong case for, dare I say it... HCwDB of the Year?

HCwDB reader Mitchell snapped this pic in The Czech Republic last week.

This is not dress-up. This is an authentic hottie/douchey coupling of uber-annoyance. In Prague.

Oh, how we weep for the land of Bohemia, the birth place of Kafka, Kundera and so many really hot porn stars.

The jewel of Europe, the city on the river where Mozart once premiered Don Giovanni, now features scrotewanks and Bleethed hotts.

Woe. 'Tis lame. Aye.

Boris mugs Elayne,
Brothabag Darren just wants wine,
Laughs at dumb honkies.

Brian Earlicker
Moves on to younger brunette
Leaves her mom behind

-- don't wheeze the douche!

Usher gropes tat hott
Tyson sips his chardonnay
he is unimpressed

-- douche mcallister

I will cleanse her bod
Gently, with alcohol wipes,
Then go buckwild

-- mr. white

Fair Ophelia
Nymph, thy question 'tis clear, to
Douche, or not to Douche

-- jean claude van douche

happy halloween
to my fellow 'bag slayers.
our work's important.

- pfah

Jensen writes in with a parable for us to unscramble:

----
R you the guy who created this site??? If you are then, how can a guy being photoed with a hot chick not be considered a douchebag??? You and all the motherf@#kers commenting on this site R just jealous that you all cant get hot chicks n stuff. I say change the title 2 "bitches with douchbags" keep things level.
----

Aha! But whither the projection of the psyche, Jensen?

For, in fact, there are no people in these pictures at all. We have denatured "the real" in our simulacrum. We create our own mirror of absence with which to gaze. As psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan once noted:

As is known, it is in the realm of experience inaugurated by psychoanalysis that we may grasp along what imaginary lines the human organism, in the most intimate recesses of its being, manifests its capture in a symbolic dimension.

This is our symbolic dimension stimulated viscerally, Jensen. The douche and the hott do not in fact exist. The images you see are simply ourselves staring back at us.

And boobies.

Please select the following football euphemism that best summarizes this photo:

A. Is Licking a 5 yard or 15 yard penalty?

B. The padding on the left could stop a coked up 1970s Dallas Cowboy trying to knock over a liquor store at 2am.

C. When did Jim McMahon convert to Catholicism?

D. This brings new meaning to the term, "forward pass."

E. I haven't seen two Bret Farves that were that fantastically Bret Farve since my last girlfriend Bret Farved my Bret Farves.

F. The Immaculate Receptions stand the test of time.

G. I took a fend off my guernsey then chucked a spear tackle to avoid the clanger before the ruckman made a grubber kick in the forward pocket, mate.

H. Boobies.

Hahaha... bless your soul.

You really think hair fwip's in control.

As seen in yesterday's pic, Natty McGee, guyliner has officially gone from occasional douchetribute to a full-blown trend. And by full-blown trend, I mean this guy.

If he was any more of a nozzle, he'd flood the club.

Yes, we've seen him before on the site. But I can't remember where, and I'm hung over, so I'm going with it.

Now before you go trashing Kimberly and Kelly for having a bit of that Long Island late 20s on the cusp of morphing into "suburban housemom" status, I'd urge you to reconsider.

Yes, they are not urban hotts. But suburban hotts have their own joys. At least, in silent picture form.

Last Friday's link to the Man Junk website brings this email:

----
Hey buddy,

We have received a lot of traffic from your blog and just wanted to thank you for talking about us on there. I wanted to send you out a bottle of our product if you’re interested.

Let me know, hope your week is going well.

Thanks, joe rowett
----

Should I sample the product in the interests of research?

Or would I be recklessly engaging in drunken teleportation like Seth Brundle in The Fly?

Would I come out of the douchal telepod alive?

There once was a douche from Cincinnati,
Who bought a blonde girl a Natty,
His mandana said "yo!"
A hello to his faux,
But his lip-herp refused to get chatty.

When trying to charm the Norwegian Model at the bar, and nervous that she'll be put off by your Spudwebbian height, do what Karl does.

Demonstrate the "Fist of Power."

Nothing shows your girlfriend "class" like the shirtless underwear on head sweatpants stain hip-hop dance move, "The Groin," while drunk off your ass at the Tuesday Night Kegger on Boylson Street.

Megods, her legs are eleven herbs and spices of perfectly toned KFC.

I would slap a Koala Bear with a box of Apple Jacks just for the chance to claim her used stockings at the Salvation Army Labor Day Sale.

The voters spoke, and the hott/douche combo of Chumlee was too much to ignore:

The Scroatian: It's gotta be Chumlee. His outfit and scissor-eye pose is supa-douchey. And those funbags on Beatrice would keep me entertained for many moons.

patentbrew: I have not voted often, but I feel I must this week because you have three such worthy candidates, yet one very, very clear winner, Chumlee. What the eff is that hand gesture? Not to mention the melons on Beatrice are ridiculous.

turd ferguson: His K-Fed-meets-Ratboy puss coupled with a single infuriating streak of grey in his hair makes death by falling meteor seem like sweet, fiery relief by comparison. And, oh, yeah, he's doing the Batusi. Flush.

anonymous: It's Chumlee - Cut Print, check the gate...

jonathan: chumlee - may he die a slow and terrible death, and may it somehow be related to scissors.

guyladouche: Chumlee, FTW. I'm going to go squat in a corner and cry now. Then daydream of fondling CL hot's sideboob and giving it chafe marks from my 5 o'clock shadow rubbing on it.

anonymous: Chumlee's hot is the most boobtastic, but man cannot live on boobs alone. Wait! What am I saying? Of course man can live on boobs alone.

orangabag: I was going to vote the Kreep but Chumlees super douchey Vogue hands make me want to fart in his general direction.

Well said, panel. Chumlee's annoying "model" pose and Beatrice's hotness, were too strong to overcome. That being said, there was some debate about Beatrice's potential for unseen largeness. medusa oblongata responds:

And as far as questioning the possible size of Beatrice's unseen caboose, let us remember that HCWDB is not founded on principles of speculation and theorizing, but on hard evidence. In this case, silky, bouncy evidence. If we stick to what is encased in the frame, we see a glorious display of siiiiiiiidebooooooooob. I would snuggle down on those pillows and coo contentedly. That doesn't make me gay. That makes me awesome.

Chumlee FTW!

Excellent argument, M.O. but how is your name not "Medoucha Oblongata"?

However, there was strong support for both Italian Sausage / Asian Melon Salad, and The Kreep. The ever-present anonymous reminds us that Italian greased up bodybuilders pointing at their yang with amply endowed Asian hottness should not be overlooked:

italian sausage FTW. this asian hott strikes my fancy on a level that makes me draw mustaches on all of my fingers in hopes that one of them impresses her enough to let steal her baby cones from wendy's.

Well said, Anon. I'm not sure I understood that, and yet it makes sense. business casual douche agrees:

Italian Sausage, for the win. The hott is truly exceptional, in spite of her not-that-revealing clothing, and the douche himself... well I want to slap him across the face with a baby seal.

And ceegee agrees:

Are you kidding? It's not even close. Italian Sausage is OILED. And Shin-Lau's back is ARCHED. I would lovingly awaken and floss a grizzly bear during hibernation just for the chance to find her leftover Snickers bar wrapper in the bear's jaws.

Yes. I, too, would search for that Snickers bar wrapper. And Amanda brings the Hottie Perspective, casting in for The Kreep:

I vote #2. That guy is just so totally gross. The slicked-down, no-definition body and the rancid hair make my breakfast crave resurrection. And can we all chip in to buy the poor thing in the middle a sandwich?

But Chumlee was far too strong to be defeated. And by strong, I mean douchey. idahohottpotato takes it home:

Chumlee ftw! I think I actually have the shirt, necklace, and scarf he's wearing in that photo... and I'm a chick. I want to scrub that K-Fed scruff off his face, and then ask his hott if those turquoise-covered mounds are real. She wouldn't answer me of course, but I'd still stare at them like a barn owl hyped up on a triple mocha latte.

As would we all, IHP.

Book a ticket for Chumlee and Beatrice in the Monthly. They've earned it. And by earned it, I mean silver streak and large bouncy boobie boobs.

Uhm, could someone please call Uter in security?

The Homies have followed home the Danish Swim Team back to the Carlyle Hotel lobby.

Rare do we capture the 'bag making both tongue and Peaches Point simultaneously.

Meanwhile the curvy arched back on Dental Floss Bikini Hott, plus the D&G Plutonium Glasses, suggest a deep 'Baguette response to Terry Yukky's scrotal taint.

In short, it's the Rehab party at the Hard Rock in Vegas.

Don't drink the water.

----
DB1,

I have a question for you. Does the wearing of a mandana automatically turn one into a douche?

I live in 'rado and I have to say, the mandana is an acceptable accoutrement here. Especially when pursuing activity outdoors. I've even, on occasion, sported one myself. And I think I am far from a d-bag. Seeking your wisdom o' sen sai.

-Not a D-bag
----

First off, using "'rado" to refer to Colorado is pretty douchey in and of itself, NaDB. But as to the Mandana, there is a miminum level excuse for wearing it when engaging in outdoor activity.

But in the bars/clubs with hot girl in tow? While making hand gestures? Douche.

HCwDB Legend and 2007 Douchie finalist Johnny Blaze wants everyone to know that you can talk all the "smack" you want, The Blaze still runs with the Goose.

In a lime-green children's playpen strip club, apparently. With Carly chugging straight from the bottle.

Somewhere in this lineup of cuddly Eurohotts playing out a naughty mother/daughter fantasy, I've carefully hidden a Twinky Wonderturd.

Look closely.

Can you find him?

I'm a big U2 fan, but even I gotta call a choad a choad. Bonobag was douchin' it up with teenage hotts in the French Riviera while the wife was away.

However, is he 'bag?

I remind the quorum that there is the "Rock Star Exemption" rule.

This rule states that all rock musicians douching it up in the presence of a hott who have had a top #10 hit in the last five years are granted leeway.

So what say you?

Does Bono get a nottadouche? Or is he 'bag?

Watch out, Jenny! He'll double cross ya!

Haha!! Get it?? Because he has two crosses on. Heh.

(ahem)

Is this thing on?

And... boobs.

It's not often that a stool sample (and his disinterested best bud, "Kal") caught mugging sweet Midwestern girls from Chippewa Falls inside a sauna straight out of a Mitchell Brothers 1970s porn has a facial configuration that deserves its own persona.

This is that time.

I'm turning it over to you, the fellow 'bag hunters. It is now your patriotic duty to Name That Chin Pube.

Rex?

Grover?

Mister Wigglesworth?

Some douches use bling/tatts/facial-pubes to announce their hyper-masculine social worth in presence of the hott.

Some simply use "The Pucker."

The Pucker knows who he's voting for in the HCwDB of the Week contest. Do you?

Going through the emails and getting the pics together for a busy week, and reflecting on the fact that Jon Hamm should not be hosting SNL, as great as he is in Mad Men. Peyton List should be. And by "hosting," I mean fondling. And by "SNL" I mean my middle toesies.

Here's your finalists:

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: Chumlee

Chumlee has that smug "model" look going. The jaundice skin. The hint of silver dye in the hair. The oily oiledness.

Combine that with the stripey scarf, the shaved chest, the ferret chin fung, the hat and the stupid hand gesture, and he's a douche that's more than the sum of his adouchrements.

And Beatrice is simply bursting forth with all that is holy and gelatinous in life.

Beatrice is strong of leg, with mountain climbing build.

She could crush your spine with her legs, then cook a chicken pot pie for supper.

I want her to punish me cruelly and without mercy. For I have been very naughty. My lower butt area needs light but firm whacking with a slide ruler and a box of Mike-n-Ikes.

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: The Kreep

Yes, the girl in the middle is scary skinny. And yes, the tripartite facial hair on Kreep looks like a cancer patient's crotch.

But Native Hottmerican on the right makes my wumpa want to wigwam, and my Native American term for something want to Native American term for something.

Uhm. I think I just went what the kids call "meta." Back on track, DB1. Back on track.

Silly tatt. Hott and douche mediated by toothpick girl.

It's not a masterwork of choad/boob cohabitation. But it's enough to make Finalist status.

For Brunette is sulty and happy and perky and probably a great listener while I regale her with tales of my adventures in the Subcontinent.

And Kreep is a trool.

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: The Italian Sausage and Asian Mellon Salad

Uhm.

Yeah.

This pic cannot be unseen.

Like the videotape in Ringu, The Sausage and Mellon Salad is cursed with the haunting spectrality of ghostly shrunken nads, mediated through a pixelated digital intermediary.

And yet, there is hope.

Archy backs make my heart race, and Shin-Lau has arms of lickable munchable mellon perfection.

She is the yin to his tiny, tiny, yang.

Speaking of: Pointing. At. His. Yang.

So them's your three. Which of these couplings has just the right alchemy balance between the dialectics of hottie/douchey commingling?

That decision, fellow 'bag hunters, is in your court. Vote, as always, in the comments thread.

Here's an exclusive, if brief, interview conducted recently with DJ Drippy Head by our crack HCwDB staff:

HCwDB: DJ Drippy Head. You wear two-tone sweatshirts and phallically grip your mic like the baddest suburban DJ around. Is there anything you'd like to say to your fans?

DJ Drippy Head: Yes. I'd like to say hey!

HCwDB: Anything else?

DJ Drippy Head: I'd also like to say ho!

HCwDB: DJ Drippy Head, should your fans wave their arms in the air?

DJ Drippy Head: Yes. Yes they should. Like they just don't...

HCwDB: Care?

DJ Drippy Head: Wow, that rhymes! You phat, brotha.

HCwDB: What about the roof, DJ Drippy Head? Is it on fire?

DJ Drippy Head (looking up): The roof? The roof? Nope. It doesn't appear to be. Why do you ask?

HCwDB: DJ Drippy Head, thank you and these two lovely ladies, for your time.

Veronica: Can I get my fifty bucks now?

The HCwDB Halloween Contest is in full effect.

If you and your boobie hottie suckle thigh dress up as a hottie/douchey toxic swirl this Halloween, send in your pic to me, douchebag1, and the best hottie/douchey costume combo will win a prize. Contest ends November 5th, or whenever the Prompas submit themselves.

Yeah, it's not a cash prize. It's not a six pack of PBR. It's a free signed copy of my book.

Hey, whaddaya want? Six dozen roses and a HoHo? I got a smelly carpet.

EDIT: Looks like the original video got pulled off YouTube, and I'm pulling the replacement vid for lameness, so here's a classic from way back in 2007: Hot Chicks with Metsbag.

A couple of people wrote in to note that this morning's pic, Cletus, the Slackjaw Douchebag may have in fact been actually "challenged," not just douchally challenged.

So I'm swapping that pic out with this toxic mess.

I'm not sure what backstory lead to this conflation of greasy Eurodouche and slutty-hott Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Pinky Solid Color Bikini.

But I'd imagine it involves copeous amounts of alcohol, significant credit card debt, and a cold, unloving stepfather named "Frank."

Some random Friday Links, as I clean out the pixel closet, and Brothabag Leon relaxes with Cathy in the Bahamas.

Which is douchier, buying Tag Bodyshots because you think it'll get you women, or stealing it and getting busted?

And yes, I discovered that link on The Smoking Gun while examining my own link. The simulacrum is now pointing back to me.

The douchebags win!! Yayyyy!!!

Man Junk. Strong enough for a man. Made for a scrotewank. And it's organic!

Broheim!! Muscles, Bra!!

Scroteboy Slim was so upset that people accused him of lying about his Cornell Degree, he actually sent in a pic. Yes, that's real. This is just getting sad.

Get Dane Cook Ringtones!! Uhm... no thanks.

Here's another pic of my future ex-wife and doubles tennis partner, Hamster Hott. And another. Alls she needs are some cute little black rimmed librarian glasses, and then she could spank me with a ruler. And I'd be happy.

Stop calling him that! He prefers to go by 'Richard."

I'd like to welcome all the new readers visiting for the first time. Welcome to the Hot Chicks with Douchebags experience! Come for the douchebags. Stay for the boobies.

Here's your Friday Haiku:

Arched-back hott, scrumptious.
Ripped L'Italiano douche cloth,
Points at small package.

More Haikus from the comments thread:

an italian flag?
from the looks of that sausage,
it's from vienna.

-- bcs

Small Italian link
with giant Asian melons
Bad lunch combo there

-- doucheous Scrotimus

"Is that a raisin
In your Speedo, or are you
Just glad to see me?"

-- boatbutter

Soaked in greasy brine
Ripped and balding old guido
Has Midget Gherkin

-- clementine of cappadoucha

his bellybutton
looks like sideways vagina
or a second mouth

-- johnny scrotten

Julia writes in:

----
Douchebag1-

Some of the douches on your site actually don't look that bad. I actually think many of them look similar to the girls with the bodys/tan/frosts/teeth.

Couldn't it be said, that the "hot chicks" typify the lady douche, and if that were the case, isn't the douche just meeting his equal? I think the pic you chose for your book cover, features two people of equal hotness and douchery. Was this your intention?
- Julia
----

What you're referring to Julia is the act of "Bleething," in which Douche and Hott come together and the scrotal infection taints both. They become a singularity of fester.

Again it must be noted that all men, myself included, have been douche in service of the hott. Just as the Croatian Lungfish learns to swim intricate patterns to attract female Lungfish, so do we carve our hair and grease our foreheads to gain suckle thigh.

My mission quest is to save the hott by changing the culture. By rearranging the semiotics of discourse into a new alignment in which douchery is no longer necessary.

Then, and only then, will the boobies be free.

DJ Bello and Brothabag Leon back-to-back are a little too much to take, so lets dial it back down with a stage-1 Fratbag, Terry.

He's barely a douche. Almost got a nottadouche pass. But note the white belt. And subtle "Shocker" gesture on his right hand.

Classy, Terry. Classy.

And I see you three sexy girl-next-door sorority sisters, Heather, Veronica and Betty. They came for that slammin' disco ball effect.

It's on sale at Radio Shack for only $29.95.

While we're checking in on classic 'bags, HCwDB legend Brothabag Leon has a message for us as well, from his actual MySpace account:

----
Please pray for me. I had a check up today and I tested positive for SEXY. Im allergic to HATERS, My blood type is ROCKSTAR & the doctor said "THIS IS WHY IM HOT" IF U SCOPING MY PAGE, REQUEST ME, TOP FRIEND ME, AND ENJOY" NO GAY REQUESTS I LOVE STRICTLY WOMEN"
----

Yeah, he sent me a takedown request last time, but I have no choice but to run this pic. It's not an option. It's a civic duty. For the world must know. Brothabag Leon tested positive for SEXY.

And Long Island Jenny has firm, childbearing hips that I greatly admire.

All you haterz, DJ Bello's got a message for you.

Peace out.

Even in Sweden, the hotts are confused by D.J. scrotewankery.

But on the bright side, Quato's repented his early mutant terrorist ways, and has made peace with larger society.

Fordouche Baggins snaps this pic for us of an oh-so-aptly titled French Axe Bodyspray display in Paris.

At first you may not notice the genius. Look closer. Read the fine print (click on the image for closer examination).

Note the lovely synergy of language, semiotics, global product and snickering.

Ever since Plato first argued that knowledge is a series of unchanging truths, we have looked at the douche-scrote as a fixed entity.

However, when in the late 4th Century, Augustine posited that the human body is not inherently douchey, the potential for degreasing entered into the realm of the metaphysic.

When in 1605, Sir Francis Bacon asked us to position our preconceptions of douche and bleeth as an obstruction to enlightenment, it was only a matter of time before Immanuel Kant introduced subjectivity and boobie lust as two fundamental biases that serve as limiting concepts on our ability to understand nature in toto.

Witness Chumlee's 'Bag Hand Gesture, pictured here.

He sees, but he does not see. His hands signify the limits of perception, and the biases of the mind in presence of boobie hottie suckle thigh.

Chumlee acknowledges a Kantian framework, even as his fingers suggest a fifth grade hand gesture for female genitalia.

For, in spite of his douchey hat and punch-worthy face, Chumlee cannot deny his philosophical journey. Just as Beatrice seeks out truth through conscious detachment. She inverts her own understandings of boobies within Husserl's object/subject noemata. She witnesses her boobies from afar, as if they are not her own. She only sees them as others do.

For they are soft and squishy.

I always enjoy when a 'bag hunter manages to get in frame and share our "WTF?"

And yes, Pleather Jacket Turd has been featured a few times before. But I've never given him a fixed identity.

Then again, neither did his parents.

What? Too harsh? Okay, his chin fung is stupid.

Navy Officer V/R writes in from Hong Kong, where he's douching it up for our amusement:

----
This pic is straight out of Hong Kong during a Navy port visit. Miami Vice suits, stunner shades, and kissy faces. I think this qualifies. What do you say, DB1?

By the way, I’m the douchebag in the red suit…Sometimes I have to make fun of myself, I love this site and visit it every morning on the ship. I told my friends I was going to send this picture to see if you put it up.

-V/R
----

Not since my time spent drunk on rice wine at the Kowloon race track chasing rickshaws through shantytown have I been so confused as to how to respond.

I applaud you for pulling delightful wonton dumpling hotts, yet am fearful that your irono-baggery is spreading actual 'baggery as part of the global infection of American Douche Virus.

Instead I will simply tip my cup of the 'train, and scream Aiya!! Gwailo!

There were some that complained that this was a lesser week for the Hott/Douche.

I disagree.

The Dragon's nose tentacles are a new douchal innovation. Gerta is firm, Norweigan IKEA knuckle wrapping, sexually repressed, dysfunction. Together, they make poo. the often present anonymous explains:

The Last Dragon, whose ominous neck scar indicates a Terminator hides behind that synthetic human skin and bloodied V-neck. A metrosexual Terminator, with course hair like a 10 year old "Real hair!" GI Joe doll discovered while emptying the garage, next to an oil painting of William Howard Taft, who would also disapprove and vote Dragon FTW.

Well put, TOPA. And yes, William Howard Taft did indeed vote Last Dragon. Other thoughts:

massengill: In the Spirit of Halloween, I've got to give it to The Last Dragon. He looks like the love child of SisQo and the Bride of Frankenstein.

senor budd: The Last Dragon should be disturbing to all who gaze upon it.

rock-n-rool-douchie-pooooooooo: Gotta be Last Dragon FTW. Grecian Formula's supposed to make your hair DARKER, isn't it? You used the wrong stuff, idiot!

vinny scumbaglia: Oh yes, your Snot Fu is strong, although your hott is lacking, this is a photographic singularity that might just be able to go a few rounds in the monthly, and by rounds I mean a few rounds from the chamber of Acey Douchey's roscoe.

crucial head: The Last Dragon looks like a giant fecal log being squeezed out of a polar bear’s rectum. As if polar bears didn’t have enough to worry about.

badvlad: I have to vote for Scrotegun. His hairhelmet, which appears to be formed from some impervious gray miracle polymer and the flames emitting from his notril make for a truly disturbing sight.

archidouchies: Is he the baddest douche in the club? 'Sho Nuff! Is he the scummiest platinum-headed laser snotter this side of the Mississippi? 'Sho Nuff!

mr. biggs: Last Dragon, whose smirk forces all lightheartedness out of the picture as he claims his territory to the world. Meanwhile, hott's engagement in this photo is undeniable. Their hips are locked together in a hopelessness that rivals Christ's crucifixion, and hott's gaze is just screaming "daddy I'll date who I want and you can't do anything about it." I'd like to see that look in a few years.

Well argued, round table. Coming in second was the ragin' crawfish, Crawdaddy. miss muffin explains:

The last dragon just doesn't seem pouty of whiny enough. When I first saw his picture, I felt sorry for him, because I thought he was a grey haired survivor of neck surgery, with blood still on his shirt. His girl is the hottest of the three contestants, but even his vicious stare cannot make him douchier than Crawdaddy.

and bluefish makes the case for the stool squeezing Iggy Plop:

I have to give it to Iggy, because if I don't, he will finish the ancient sigil slowly being inked in on his arm and an ancient unspeakable monstrosity will rise from the depths of the uncharted ocean and eat my brain.

Also, his woman is damn fine, in that crazy post-punk barely-dressed kind of way. And that's a great way to be fine.

It is true that if that tatt gets finished, The Mist will envelop a supermarket in rural Maine. but anonymous puts it best:

2 and 3 are pretenders...the last dragon has everything we have come to expect from weekly winners: ridiculous hair, stupid shirt, lame wrist accessory, and, of course, unwarranted domination of an innocent hot.

True. So true. The Last Dragon wins the vote. But enough to beat out Samurai Scrote in the Monthly? We shall see.

Well, the long in negotiation investor group that was going to put some serious coin into HCwDB and build this site out fell through last week. We can thank the Belvedere ordering assclowns on Wall Street.

I'd hoped to build out a larger playground for both casual visitors and regulars to play with pics in our sand simulacrum, but no such luck.

So back to me and my sad-ass tech skills holding the site together with spit n' twine. And boobies. Lots and lots of boobies.

However, now's a good time to ask, if you could add anything to the site, what would it be? What direction would you like HCwDB to head in? Creative thoughts? Tools? Functionality? A Slap the Grieco Flash game?

Drop a suggestion or advice in the comments thread, or email me and let me know your thoughts.

Here's the thing.

It's not 1988. New York urban blight doesn't justify a form of street poetry expression on subway cars as a statement on corporate greed and city neglect.

Grafitti artists are now displayed in the Guggenheim and the Whitney.

Give it up, Rico. We know you're just busting the spray cans to get to paint Jenna's supple thighs. Which is... actually a really good strategy.

But your Yankee cap is still douche.

At what point in 2008 did 'Bag Adouchrements cross over to start resembling Paula Abdul circa 1989?

And is bronze doll on the right a sexy Scarlett Johanssen type, or the woman killed in Goldfinger?

Although them boobies are poppin' fresh, thats a bit too much shine for me.

Oh who'm I kidding. I'd wrap them in tinfoil and sautee with a light garlic butter creme.

The San Diego Zoo's latest themed exhibit, "Ass Munch Hotts and Greasebags," proved an immediate hit.

Look who's entering presidential politics!

HCwDB reader and Fung Party National Chairperson James Scrotville captured this pic on his way to work this morning.

That's none other than Fung, running on the "Orange First" campaign ticket. Fung also advocates federal funding for eyebrow tweasing, a voucher program for chest shaves, and a Federally mandated, tiered, bling taxation system.

Fung wants your vote.

Fung for Mayor

Somewhere in this pic of Last Call Drunk Hott, I've carefully hidden a Waldouche Head.

Can you find it?

You know what would have a certain poetic symmetry? If the Jonas Brothers covered Mmm... Bop.

I haven't seen a tall, hulking monstrosity weirding me out like this since that creepy wraith went nuts and killed Gabriel Byrne in Michael Mann's The Keep on late night cable last month.

What? Too obscure?

HCwDB of the Month winner Tighty Armani knows who he's voting for in the Weekly. Have you voted yet?

Yes, T.A. is ready to mack on some hotties at the 2008 Douchies in December.

But the odds are long. Early oddsmakers have Droopy McScrote at 2:1, with Bra!! at 4:1, Deathtongue at 6:1 and T.A. only at 10:1. One dark horse to split the vote is The Metaphysical Hooligan.

But what about Mooby? Can Man Boobs earn a Douchie? Gabehcuod? Acey Douchey?

And will Samurai Scrote snag one of the final spots?

Yes, I'm hyping the Douchies like a new show on Fox. Because I'm out of Cocoa Puffs and had to eat fruit cocktail for breakfast.